A Man and a Monster
by sweet-destiny3
Summary: This a story about a man...and a monster. "Teach me" she had said. "Teach you" he asked as if it were something only the Heavens could reach. LORO! R&R!


**Disclaimer:** Don't own them. But I can dream, can't I?

**Author's Note:** Love all those readers out there. Yearn for reviews. So review! Thanks to my family who support me no matter what. Some of this is history from the comics. I love Loro! I'm glad they are together in the new comics too! Hehe. Check out my other stories. Most of them are JOTT though. Many, many stories. Go read them all! Just kidding. Read this one first. And ENJOY!!!

For those of you reading "Infatuation" stay tuned for more. This story is just a short break from it!

**A Man and A Monster**

"This is a story of a man… and a monster."

The words crushed the sound of their hearts as much as the thunder did. But the words nor the thunder crushed the sound of her brave heart as her fixated eyes watched the younger kids pull together tightly. They all had jumped a little at the sound of the word 'monster', followed by the frightening sound of thunder. So she decided to inform them of the cliché, "Appearances can be deceiving." She had let a strand of her short hair fall upon her forehead freely as her brown eyes ran from the left to the right, and then rested in the middle. Her strong stare showed no fear of the striking flashes of lightning, angry rumble of thunder, and the crying of the fierce wind outside the mansion walls. Nothing but the light of a candle flickered in the living room, where everyone was quiet. Where everyone listened.

"A man with no ability to love."

………………………………....

Snikt. Snikt. Snikt.

It had started as mild anger from deep within. Then that anger amounted to a punch, followed by a couple of more punches, fiercer, faster. Now, it was an elimination of anything near him because of the fury that had built within. The claws sliced through the punching bag with fiery rage. It tore open the material that held the hard white fluff inside. He grabbed the white fluff with his claws and ripped it into bits and pieces. When he did so, he felt excitement and pleasure run through his bones, which were laced with adamantium metal. He did not welcome it or wish for it. It was just there. He was there, sometimes asking questions that could not be answered with words.

When he finished the elimination process of the punching bag he searched around the large gym room for something more. Something that could fulfill his stressed body and mind. And without thought or hesitation, he ran straight to whatever was behind him and ripped through the hard metal exercise equipment with his claws. Followed by a animal like scream, the poles that held each other together broke in half and crumbled over one another. He sliced and sliced until they were torn to shreds. No matter how broken something lye in front of him, he just kept breaking it down into pieces until it could be broken down no more. The sounds of his rage filled the air, mixing with the sounds of his metal claws through metal objects. It made him feel as if he did not exist. As if tearing things apart was the reason he lived. His purpose. His goal.

But he was oblivious to the woman watching from afar.

Images flooded his mind rapidly. Something that his rage had been trying to ignore. The images reminded him of his existence as they flashed through his mind instantly. As if they were programmed to do so. Horrible memories that he wished were never engraved in his head. But wishing was a figment of his imagination. Because when he saw those horrible images, he feared himself more than he feared those who had held surgical equipment running into his body, causing bloodshed and pain. Emotional, mental, and spiritual pain. Scars that he sometimes thought represented who he really was. Scars that could never heal.

What kind of a man was he before his loss of memory? He knew. It was a bit vague. But he knew. He would never allow those memories to over flow his head and heart. Never.

"Logan," a sweet voice whispered from afar. But he was still oblivious towards her presence. Instead he stood there with his claws unsheathed, glaring at the withered objects that were no longer whole, lying in front of his eyes. His breathing heaved as sweat trickled down his face and unto his chest that held an undershirt over it. "Logan," she said a little louder this time. Logan's head darted towards the sound to be met with a blue eyed beauty. He faltered at her voice and her presence at a time like this. But his expression did not show any sign of a falter. Instead he held the same tough expression written on his oval shaped face.

His claws slid back into the skin between his knuckles. "It's Storm, right?" Logan spoke gruffly as she nodded politely. She looked upon his rough features. Unshaven stubble appeared on the bottom of his chin and the sides of his cheeks. His strong jaw line seemed to always be clenched and his jet black hair gleamed with sweat. He was an intimidating man, but nonetheless, she knew he was a member of this household they were to call home. She showed respect in the way he showed her. She lost her words for a few moments. The sight of slashed and broken equipment gave her that silence.

The silence rang through the now still and moist air of the gym room.

…………………………

The lightening flashed upon the window causing everyone in the room not to blink and the story teller's eyes to seem as if she was actually part of the story. "'Teach me' she had said," the middle aged woman spoke to those who had gathered around her. They listened with great interest and wide eyes. But the story was not so surprising to her. "The man looked at her with confusion. 'Teach you?' he had asked with amazement. As if teaching was something that only the Heavens were allowed to touch."

"I don't understand," a young girl of nine with fiery red hair intervened intently, "you said a man and a monster. Who's the monster?"

"The monster was within the man."

………………………

"Teach me hand-to-hand combat," Ororo Munroe said calmly through her African accent. Her thick white hair was bunched around her as her blue eyes spoke of determination and life. She kept her distance because she had to admit that the man she had met two weeks ago frightened her a bit. His rough complexion intimidated her, especially having those claws of rock. Almost impossible to break. "My mutant ability is not enough. Without it, I'm helpless."

Logan did not answer her through words. He just nodded and met her the next day in another gym. A gym clear of equipment. It was them against the mat. First order of business was self defense. He came closer to her, feeling comfortable in the warmth of her presence. The woman seemed to have a welcoming aura around her dark glow of ebony. But Logan never welcomed anyone. He could not, not when he was not able to even trust himself. Nevertheless, he placed his hands firmly on her right wrist, making sure she was not being hurt. He placed it in the air and slanted it towards her left side, lower arm towards his face. He turned to her quickly and caught her stare. She was obviously interested in his techniques, while his eyes seemed to admire hers lightly. But he shrugged the thought off and tried to sound as if he was teaching, not demanding. "Now, you've gotta know where your attacker is headed darlin'," Logan spoke in his usual gruff tone. Storm just nodded at his words and allowed him to continue.

An hour had passed as Logan taught her three movements of self defense, using her arms and hands. "I am ready," Storm spoke with concentration. Logan nodded and aimed his lower arm towards her to miss and hit her shoulder instead of being blocked by her own arm.

"We went over this a hundred times!" Logan exclaimed, losing his calm all of a sudden. They had repeated that movement over and over again and she still seemed to be too slow when he advanced towards her. He grabbed her wrists harshly and lifted them up towards her face. The first move they worked on. He looked to her to see her usual angelic blue eyes widen with surprise. She took a step back unconsciously and made Logan wince. Why had he yelled at her? She had asked him to teach her and he had deliberately yelled at her. She was not doing anything wrong, he was the one not teaching her correctly. "Look, that won't come out again."

Hours turned into days and days turned into weeks. Four weeks to be exact. He found himself wanting to know more about her. She was in a way mysterious, which lured him into following her daily activities and learning more about her. He had watched as she nurtured her garden so carefully, making sure that everything was well fed with the water that she provided and nourished with plenty of sunlight. He had found this graceful trait of hers intriguing. She was a very calm woman, but it seemed as if she kept to herself much. On a few nights he had even watched her sleep and found her tossing and turning on some nights and sleeping peacefully on others. The tossing and turning was unexplainable. Only time would tell. But when he watched her sleeping so calmly and peacefully he took in how truly beautiful she was with her hair of snow gathered around her soft face of ebony. She looked like an angel. Sometimes he would go to bed and sleep for the rest of the night like a baby because of the late night sessions they had. And one time, he thought he had smelled her scent near his room.

Storm had walked into the unfixed training room outside of the mansion. It was apart from it, but meant for practicing mutant abilities once they had students in the soon to be school. It was built up by wooded walls, a wooden roof, and a cemented ground that Logan and Storm had laid a mat upon. There were two large glass windows to the far right wall. Storm looked towards Logan who was looking out the window. He seemed to be deep in thought. Storm had learned much about her now good friend in only a month and was no longer intimidated by him. The motorcycle that he loved so dearly was a wonderful ride. He had taken her with him once, her riding on the back until she convinced him she could ride it from the front. She felt so adventurous and alive with him. He was a determined fighter, but she had learned that chopping things up was just his way of relieving anger. She learned that he could never do that to a real person. His gruff expression disappeared when she watched him sleeping. He looked like a kind man, which he really was beneath all the wrapping paper.

"Ready to start?" Storm asked with a directed smile at him. Over that one month, she had seen Logan in a different light. And today she showed the widest smile Logan had ever seen.

Surprisingly enough, Storm saw a wide smile appear on Logan's face, for the first time.

………………………..

"But the man was hiding the monster from within," the girl spoke as the thunder crackled loudly and the candle flickered. "The monster that was still with him from his past." She watched as the children bit their nails and held closely together in the warmth of the living room carpet. "On a night quite like tonight…"

……………………….

They practiced in the same unfixed training room for a week now. Her moves were beginning to become better than his own. She even added in her own techniques in the process. Logan was amazed by the product of their sessions. He did not want them to end though. She had been great company, something that Logan had never really enjoyed. He had not raised his voice once since the first day. Maybe the fourth.

A shapely leg flew in the air and kicked Logan in the stomach. It hurt at first, thank God for his healing ability. Lightening flashed with rage as the thunder yelled ferociously at the sky. He looked to Storm, who's blue eyes seemed to be a normal blue rather than the whole white they turn when her powers took over. Of course, this was a no power training. She was very intent with herself and her powers to learn that she could not control the weather when it was not necessary.

Logan recovered quickly and aimed his fist towards her face. She blocked with her upper arm and dropped to the ground to slide her leg past Logan's legs, causing him to lose his balance. He dropped to the ground as Storm watched from above. Then he shot back up and they continued aiming and blocking in every part of their bodies. From their heads to their feet.

The rain began to beat harder and faster upon the wooden cylinder walls and glass windows. The raindrops pounded against the roof with an echo. But Logan and Storm continued their battle. Storm blocked with both hands and legs and Logan was impressed. The battle began to intensify with every block and every kick. Logan's eyebrows were knitted together in concentration and obsession with the movements of the battle that was drawn out like an aggressive dance.

Ororo looked to him with concern. He seemed to be into this training battle more than anything she had seen before. His moves became stronger and a bit forceful towards her lighter ones. She did not worry at the moment. Maybe he just had a rough day. She applied her speed to the speed Logan was going. It was becoming a bit too fast, too quick. Now she began to worry. Especially when Logan unsheathed his claws and aimed them towards her. "Logan!" she screamed with fear as his sharp razor claws darted her way, as if in slow motion. She quickly moved out of the way and his claws went straight through the wooden wall. The claws pushed themselves in between his knuckles as he heaved, trying to catch his breath.

He turned around to look at Ororo looking back at him with a shocked and frightened expression. His expression was blank, knowing that what he had just done was done without thought. They stood there for a minute, which seemed like forever, as Logan dropped to the ground, holding his knuckles in agony and heaving loudly against the sound of the rain. He watched her hurry out the door and into the rain. What had he done? He had gone out of control. He had forgotten that this was merely a training session and she was his friend. She was innocent. The fight had become so intense that Logan had forgotten who he was. Or maybe he had remembered who he was.

A murderer.

…………………………..

The children's eyes rested on the girl with no sign of sleepiness. They wanted to hear what happened next. "Did she die? Did he, like, kill her?" a girl with bright blue eyes and dark brown hair asked. She was the age of seven and very enthusiastic about life. Just like her grandmother had been.

"Is this even a true story?" a boy of ten asked with dullness, trying to hide his interest. He owned a pair of light brown eyes to match his skin. The storyteller gave her cousin a scary look and nodded.

"Indeed," she said over the candle's soft light and over the lightning's strong one. "He killed…"

………………………..

Logan had not dropped by to watch her sleep. He could not. What if she could not sleep because of the scene that had happened earlier. Because he knew that he could not sleep because of it. It had shocked him. It had shocked him on the surface of his mind. But deep within he knew. He shut his eyes to stop thinking about it. But it haunted him, even in his dreams. So sleep washed over his brown eyes in a sudden moment in time.

His eyeballs moved from within his eyelids as he saw the scenes of his life replayed in the form of a blurred dream in his mind. The images he saw, he had actually lived, which caused his heart to cry out in pain. When some argued that he did not have one.

_He saw the beautiful lady with curly red hair float across his memories. He tossed his head from the left to the right. He saw her fluffy dress and white hat. _

_Flash. _

_He saw himself. He was writing. He looked up at the night sky that hung clouds over his head. The clouds began to cry as they showered their tears upon the paper and smeared his inked words. He crumbled the paper beneath his fingers, unable to read the words. What were words to him? They were beautiful and meaningful with anything but love. To him love seemed impossible to explain on paper. _

_Flash. _

_He looked up to see a woman who's dress was soaked with water. _

_Flash. _

_She slumped onto the muddy earth and looked into Logan. It seemed as if she saw something. _

Logan moved to his left. That was uncomfortable. On his stomach, on his back, on his right. No, they were all uncomfortable positions. Only because the dream was becoming a nightmare as he watched helplessly.

_Flash. _

_His boned claws ran through her stomach. No, it was an accident. But nonetheless, she was dead. Because of him._

That was a dream that replayed itself over and over again. A part of Logan's blurred past. Another one he remembered fully, for it was after the metal was laced in his bones. Something that never failed to haunt his dreams either. He unconsciously wiped the dripping sweat from his face and pulled the covers off of him. His black head of hair dug into his pillow fiercely as if he were doing something against his will.

"_Kill me," she had told him painfully. "Spare me my suffering." Without another word Logan kissed Yuriko's tender red lips and watched as her tiny eyes closed and her soft black hair fall upon her pale face. _

_Flash. _

_In his dream, the claws would not come out. _

_Flash. _

_Logan pulled them out to see the blood of the woman he once loved engraved in him, forever._

"Logan," a familiar sweet voice spoke through his ears and into his unconscious mind. She sat on the edge of his bed and shook his shoulders lightly. She did not think coming to his room after the scene today was a good idea, but she felt like talking to him. Not just about today, but about everything. For she could not sleep peacefully either. She shook him a little harder and then rested her hand on his muscular arm lightly. Storm just watched him for a few moments and then shook him a little harder. This time finally waking him up.

His eyes darted open with red veins painted across them. It looked as if he was holding his breath. He looked towards Ororo's glowing presence and let out his breath in one escape. He did not bother to wipe the sweat from his face and hair as he got up on his side, shirtless and looked towards Ororo's sitting body. He looked to her with confusion. If she were not to come here tonight, he would have ignored the scene today and moved away from the issue. But life was against him in a kind of way. Ororo in his room is not something the deepest place in his mind did not think about. "Hey 'Ro," Logan said with a whisper. He was surprised at his slightly cracked voice. "Thanks for waking me up from my nightmares."

Ororo gave a little smile and brought a tissue out from her robe. She dabbed the sweat lightly from his face and gave him a cup of water. Logan thanked her and laid back down on his pillow, not intending to go to sleep. He patted his hand once on the other pillow and motioned for her to come over on the other side. Ororo looked at his non-playful eyes and knew that he had no intentions for tonight. She also knew that he would not attempt to do anything she did not want to do. So she walked over to the other side of the bed and removed her slippers. With her robe still on, she laid down on the pillow next to him. They both laid on their backs and looked up at the blank ceiling.

Logan did not attempt to look to his side. He had invited her to lay next to him, but he was afraid being too close to such a beautiful face meant he would lean in for something she might not want. He felt pieces of her white hair tickle the sides of his cheeks, but he ignored any thoughts he might have to that. "I couldn't sleep," Storm said through her African accent. "And you, Logan?"

"Wish I hadn't," he said through a slightly whispered and slightly gruff voice. He heard Ororo breathing lightly, silent for a couple of moments. It sounded as if she wanted to say something but could not. As if she was interested in what he had to say.

"Bad dreams?" she had finally asked with interest and concern.

Logan desperately whished he had a cigar right about now. He also felt as if telling someone who listened would relieve him from those nightmares for a while. And so he spoke, "About my past." He almost felt her eyebrows shoot up in concern and wonder.

"I also have dreams about my past," she spoke with a tone of wisdom and comfort, as if she could make everything alright. She also needed to tell someone to relieve her of those nightmares that haunted her when she least expected it. She turned her eyes to the side and tried not to stare at Logan's bare and muscular chest. "I have nightmares of the day my parents died and I had been trapped beneath rubble for days. My claustrophobia always reminds me of it also."

Logan had to turned to his side. He had to look at her. But he tried to make it as comfortable as possible for her. Her soft words made him believe she understood everything about him and everything he was going through. She had calm and peaceful eyes that spoke of the gentle ways of the blue ocean waves. "I'm sorry 'Ro," he suddenly said, very slowly. As if this was the first time he had ever said those two words to someone. Ororo turned on her side too and now they were directly face to face. Those words had been like music from Heaven. They were spoken so softly and so genuinely, Ororo just wanted to kiss him. At that moment he looked so innocent and kind. Something she did not see often on his exterior.

"The past tells us of who we are, yes," Ororo said as if she were looking into two bright stars that had fallen towards earth, "but it also allows us to find out who we can be." With those words, Logan gave up on holding back. Instead, he allowed himself to make a move. He held the side of her face tenderly and caressed her cheek with his thumb, bringing it lightly towards her lips. His thumb moved away as his lips moved closer. The kiss was engaged quickly, lasting for a little longer than a moment.

His fingers ran through her white hair as she imitated his movements and held his now shaven face the same way. The sweet and tender kiss broke as they put their foreheads lightly together, heaving softly.

Storm looked into the brown depth of his eyes to see pureness and love. She smiled and he smiled right back. Even wider.

……………………………..

"He killed the monster," the story teller concluded, "with love."

The storyteller blew out the candle lightly when her story was done and pulled out a flashlight. But before she could do so, many screams boomed in the mediocre room as the yellow light filled the room. "The electricity is back on, kids," a man said from the entrance of the living room. The kids turned to him with relief.

"Uncle Logan!" all the kids exclaimed in a baffle, one right after the other. They ran to him and hung onto his legs and arms. Logan threw some of them playfully onto the couches and turned to Torrent.

"Have you been scaring these kids Torrent?" Logan asked gruffly fluffing their hair with his hands. Torrent looked upon him with a smile.

"No Dad," she said with a smile as she wrapped her arm around the middle of his back. "I was just telling them a story about a man and a monster."

"I see," Logan said through his old ragged voice as he still stood tall with his white hair and slightly wrinkled skin. His old skin was finally beginning to wrinkle against his healing abilities, which had enabled him to live so long and had been inherited by his daughter. He kissed the top of her short white hair taking in the soft smell of rain from within. She reminded him of her mother so much. "Love you, kid."

"Love you too, Dad."

……………………….

**Author's Note:** Hope you liked it. Only one way to find out. Look to your left and you'll see a button that says go! You shall click that button to submit a review. Hehe. Well, that's all folks!!!

Torrent is the real name of Ororo and Logan's daughter in the comics. She was concieved in a "what-if?" universe.


End file.
